


Klaine Advent Drabbles 2015

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, klaine advent 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 12,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compilation of any prompts I manage to fill for Klaine Advent. Individual warnings will go up as need be, but they're not exactly likely to occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anniversary

“Uh oh, what’s with that look?” Blaine asked as he arrived home one afternoon, stomping snow off his boots and unraveling his sodden scarf. He hastily crossed their tiny living room to catch Kurt’s laptop after it almost fell off his knees as he flinched at Blaine’s arrival. “Sorry!”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Kurt said, closing the lid and setting it gently on the coffee table. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Blaine prompted, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over Kurt’s hand where it lay in between them on the couch.

“Well, it started as me being frustrated with all the ornament options available online,” Kurt said, quirking one side of his mouth in slight embarrassment. “They all say ‘Our First Christmas!’ or something similar, which is great, but….”

“Yeah, it’s not quite accurate, is it?” Blaine said, catching on. “I mean, sure, this is our first _married_ Christmas, but we’ve had a lot, haven’t we?”

“This’ll be the fifth Christmas we’ve spent together, various relationship statuses aside,” Kurt confirmed. “Which got me thinking about our wedding and realizing how freakishly close it was to our anniversary.”

“Babe, we got together in - oh,” Blaine said, checking himself midsentence. “Not our dating anniversary, but-”

“-the anniversary of the day we met,” Kurt finished, smiling. “I came to spy on you in early November, and our wedding was close to the end of the month.”

“Wow, I didn’t even realize that,” Blaine said. “I wonder if that was part of the reason it felt so right to just do it then - since we were so close to that day and all.”

“Could be,” Kurt said, nodding in agreement. “God, it was hard going through that day when you were with Dave. The kids had just done an Alanis Morrisette/Carole King week that had reminded me of you, too, which didn’t help at all.”

“I felt the same way during our first breakup,” Blaine said, squeezing Kurt’s hand. “All I could think about was going back to Dalton, but God knows I never would’ve been able to handle having a normal conversation on that stairwell.”

Kurt shivered before shaking his head firmly. “Okay. Enough with the bad memories for today. We’ve finally got each other now, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Blaine said, leaning in for a brief kiss. “Now can you find that recipe I bookmarked the other day? I was thinking chicken broccoli bake sounded like the perfect meal for such a cold, nasty day.”

“Sure thing,” Kurt said, grabbing and reopening his laptop. 

Blaine made to get up and start pulling out all the ingredients he’d need, but a gasp and a gentle tug at his arm made him lean back in.

“What is it?”

“Look,” Kurt said, turning the laptop slightly.

“Oh,” Blaine breathed, smiling. “You finally found an [accurate ornament.](https://img0.etsystatic.com/071/2/11601295/il_570xN.825122468_i0ox.jpg)”

“And it fits with what we just said. My life _is_ better whenever you’re in it.”

“I feel the exact same way.”

Dinner got put off for a while in favor of more kissing. Blaine wasn’t really mad about it, though.


	2. Broadway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Hamilton references and a lot of Finn feels.

Kurt sat stock-still in his plush seat, so caught up in his own swirling thoughts that he wasn’t aware of anything else in the theater.

At least, not until he felt a gentle hand dabbing a handkerchief under his eyes.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked quietly, relinquishing the hankie to Kurt when he reached for it.

“Sorry, I’m back,” Kurt said, blinking away his last few tears. “Jesus, I didn’t expect a show about Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton to make me this introspective and emotional.”

“You and me both,” Blaine said, and for the first time Kurt noticed the tear tracks shining on Blaine’s cheeks. “Let’s be completely honest, though - the real hero of that show was-”

“-Eliza,” they said simultaneously.

“She really loved Alexander, didn’t she?” Blaine continued, smiling. “I mean, he did some stupid, stupid things - but she still wanted to be with him.”

“I think we can both relate,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand to reassure him that he wasn’t actually mad about their past mistakes - they were both works in progress, after all, and they knew what not to repeat. “Granted, if you ever published a pamphlet about any of your sexual encounters, with me or not, I would end up in prison for murder.”

“There go my future plans,” Blaine teased.

Kurt smacked him softly in the arm before turning more serious. “I wasn’t only thinking about us during the finale, though.”

“Oh?”

“I couldn’t help but think of - Finn,” Kurt said, voice strangling as he said his brother’s name. “For the whole show, really. The million things he hadn’t done. Who gets to tell his story.”

They were silent for a moment as they both tried to get their feelings under control.

“I want to start a scholarship for him,” Kurt said decisively. “Now that McKinley’s a performing arts school, it charges tuition, and that’s a barrier for some kids, especially if they’ve got a single mom or dad. I don’t know how to do it, but I - I _need_ to. I want his story to live on.”

“We can use one of those savings bonds my dad gave me,” Blaine said, equally sure. “I know we were planning on keeping them around in case of emergency, but - this is more important. We can still keep a little for ourselves, but let’s start the fund with most of that money. Then we can do fundraisers or something - and if we put the money in an account, it’ll accrue interest and replenish a little that way, too.”

“God, I didn’t realize you’d absorbed so much from your father’s job,” Kurt said, a little awed. “But Blaine - you don’t have to-”

“I loved him too, Kurt,” Blaine interrupted. “He was your brother, but he was my friend. My leader, for a while. I would’ve never thought to start a scholarship in his honor, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help.”

Kurt leaned in, cupped Blaine’s face, and kissed him hard. “I love you. So much, Blaine. I’m glad you’re part of my narrative.”

“Well, you know - _my life is fine ‘cause Kurt Hummel’s in it_ ,” Blaine sang back, hands in Kurt’s hair.

They could’ve stayed wrapped up in each other and their plans for hours yet, but the house lights flicking on and off made them remember that they really did need to leave the theater at some point.


	3. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbasses in love, to make up for yesterday's feels-fest. PG-13.

They were snuggled up in bed, sweaty and sated, when Blaine said it.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” Kurt replied playfully as he absently twisted one of Blaine’s loosening curls around his fingers.

“What?” Blaine said, a little heated. He pushed himself upright to stare at Kurt accusatorily.

“I love you more?” Kurt repeated, confused, before scrambling to sit up as well.

“How can you even say that?” Blaine asked, glare on his face. Kurt could hear him stifling a laugh, though, so he knew Blaine wasn’t actually angry. “Do you even know how much I love you, Kurt Anderson-Hummel?”

“However much it is, I still love you _more_ , Blaine Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt said, catching on. “I’m taller, I have more capacity for love in my body.”

Blaine inhaled sharply as his eyes widened. “You really just went there and you still claim to love me more? That just proves that _I_ love _you_ more, babe.”

“I’m gonna need some citations before I believe you, B,” Kurt said. “Formatted properly and from scholarly sources - you know the drill.”

“If a term paper is what you need, a term paper is what you’ll get,” Blaine said in a tone that made shivers run up and down Kurt’s spine. “Fifteen pages on how much I love you and how nothing compares will be no sweat.”

“Single or double spaced?”

“Single. What do you take me for, some kind of _amateur?_ ” Blaine asked, rolling his eyes.

Kurt couldn’t help himself. He sprang forward to kiss Blaine fiercely, almost flipping them off the side of the bed.

“You are ridiculous and I love you so goddamn much,” he said in between kisses.

“I love you mo-”

“No. Enough of that for today. We have our whole lives to fight about who loves whom more,” Kurt said, curling closer to Blaine. “Right now, I need you to kiss me so hard I forget my own name.”

“Challenge accepted,” Blaine said in the same tone as before. He pulled Kurt on to his lap and started paying attention to the sweet spot on his neck.

“ _Goddd_ ,” Kurt moaned, succumbing to the moment.

They hadn’t planned on going for round three that night, but neither of them could bring themselves to regret it, even when they were both late for class the next morning.


	4. Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine deals with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Not terribly strong, imo, but it's definitely there.

Winter was hard for Blaine sometimes. On a good day, he could appreciate the season - the crisp feeling of cold air, the way streetlights looked when surrounded by a snowy haze, the cozy sweaters. On a bad day, however, he could barely bring himself to get out of bed.

“Honey?” Kurt asked one evening. He had just come home to a dim apartment and a blanket burrito’ed husband who barely turned his head to acknowledge him.

“Mmm?”

“It was another bad day, huh?” Kurt said sympathetically.

“I feel like it’s always dark anymore,” Blaine said, voice dull. “I wake up and it’s dark and I go to the theater where it’s mostly dark and I come home and it’s dark. It’s like we’re living in some post-apocalyptic hellscape.”

Kurt just hummed, knowing there were no words to sooth Blaine just then. Instead, he quickly flitted around the apartment, dumping the take-out bags he’d brought home in the kitchen before grabbing the sun lamp from their bedroom and plugging it in on the side table closest to Blaine. He also turned on the Christmas tree lights and the coordinating strand they’d strung around their living room window for an extra, festive touch.

“Oh, honey,” he said when he turned back to Blaine. The blanket burrito had unfolded a little to allow Blaine to lean his face and neck toward the sun lamp, so close that he was practically nuzzling it. Kurt could see tear tracks shining down Blaine’s face, thanks to the fresh illumination.

“I knew I should have turned this on earlier, but I got home and I just couldn’t bring myself to get farther than the couch,” Blaine said, now wiggling his hands free to warm them against the sun lamp. “Thank you.”

“Should we call Dr. Taylor?” Kurt asked, coming over to sit next to Blaine. He rubbed a gentle hand down Blaine’s back.

“Probably,” Blaine admitted. “Just to make sure this really is seasonal and not something more permanent. But not tonight.”

“Blaine, we can’t put off-”

“I’m not, Kurt, I promise,” Blaine said, turning to face Kurt. His whole demeanor was more natural than earlier, reassuring Kurt slightly. “I’ll call her tomorrow, or I’ll have you do it if I still don’t have the energy. Tonight, all I need is you. And maybe some dinner.”

“Well then, you’re in luck,” Kurt teased. “Because I brought home pot pies from that homestyle diner on 27th Street. Comfort food just sounded good tonight.”

“You’re the best,” Blaine said gratefully.

“You know it,” Kurt said, winking and pressing a kiss to Blaine’s cheek. “I’ll go get the food, one sec.”

He heard Blaine start humming idly as he walked away and tried to place the tune in his mind - he knew he had heard the song before. A few seconds later, he got the lyrics, and couldn’t help but sing along as he plated their dinner.

_Something happens when I hold him  
He keeps my heart from getting broken  
When the days get short and the nights get a little bit frozen  
We hold each other  
We hold each other_

And once Kurt was back, they did just that.


	5. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning may imply otherwise, but this drabble is sheer fluff, I promise.

“Are you crazy? Andrew Lloyd Webber didn’t write _Book of Mormon_!”

“I have it right here in my notes, and I have _flawless_ note-taking skills!”

Kurt couldn’t decide whether to beat his head into the table, beat someone else’s head into the table, or give into his exhaustion and just fall asleep in his chair in the middle of the library. NYADA had instituted mandatory finals study groups in order to promote “teamwork” and “co-learning,” but they had also refused to let the students choose their own groups. Thus, Kurt was stuck with the dumbasses who could execute a series of steps beautifully but couldn’t do bookwork if their lives depended on it.

 _And we’re coming to the point where their lives might just depend on it, potential jail time be damned,_ Kurt thought, frustrated. He’d already destroyed his hairdo from running angry fingers through it (instead of strangling one of his study buddies) and had finished re-rereading his notes fifteen minutes ago. At that point, he figured he could name the authors of musicals that didn’t even exist yet.

“Hi, sorry.” Kurt perked up at the sound of the familiar voice coming from the front of the room. “I need to get Kurt Hummel? There’s been a call from the hospital.”

Kurt shoved his things in his bag haphazardly and bolted to the desk. “I’m here, I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“You can go, Mr. Hummel,” the librarian said, making a note in her log. “I’ll tell the administrators that you had an excuse.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said fervently before turning to Blaine. “ _What happened?_ ”

“I’ll tell you outside,” Blaine said, taking Kurt’s hand and leading them quickly out of the library. “Our change of address has been processed.”

“What?”

“When we moved back to New York and needed to update Burt’s next-of-kin records just in case? They processed the change,” Blaine said, looking far too sly for Kurt’s frazzled nerves.

“Blaine!” Kurt smacked his husband’s arm. “You nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack! Why did you need to get me from my study group for that?”

“I knew you needed an escape,” Blaine said simply. “Your texts were kinda worrying, babe, and it’s not like you prefer to study in a group anyways. The hospital call was a technically not untrue way to spring you.”

Kurt just gaped at Blaine for a moment. “But this is your only day off before your Christmas revue rehearsals start. You really wanted to spend it coming all the way down here to spring me?”

“Well, that wasn’t my _only_ plan,” Blaine said, sly grin reappearing. “I may have spent the morning baking Christmas cookies and getting all the ingredients for homemade hot chocolate. We’re going to go back home and either you can keep studying while I relax or we can do something together. It’s up to you - I didn’t want to actually keep you from prepping for finals if that’s something you really need, but I wanted my husband around - as in, both at our apartment today and not in prison ever.”

“I love you,” Kurt said, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s surprisingly warm lips. “And I think I’m good to stop studying, at least for today. Cookies, hot chocolate, and a day of movie musicals sounds perfect, honestly.”

“We can pause the opening credits before they get to the authors if you think that’ll help - _hey!_ ” Blaine squealed when Kurt made a quick, sloppy snowball and threw it at him, mock-angry look on his face. “I’m only trying to help.”

“I know,” Kurt said sincerely, linking his arm in Blaine’s and heading toward the subway entrance. “You already have.”

“It’s the least I can do for the world’s greatest husband.”

“You did something for yourself today?”

“Very funny.”

“I was being serious. I’m going to have to do something major for you later in return.”

“You don’t have-”

“Blaine, I will return your Christmas presents if you don’t let me do something nice for you.”

“Noted. Any expressions of love will not go ignored.”

“Good, because it’s really quite cold out here, and I’m thinking we might need to share some body heat when we get home to warm up properly.”

“You are the smartest man I know.”

“It’s all that studying I did for my finals.”

Blaine’s laugh echoed off the concrete lining the subway entrance, bringing a grin to Kurt’s face.


	6. Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi unrealistic fluff.

“Blaine? Can you c’mere for a sec?”

“Yeah, babe, what’s up?” Blaine asked, finishing up the knot on his bow tie as he entered the living room.

“People think I’m single,” Kurt said from where he was staring at his phone on the couch.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s the HummelBrag QVC launch today, so I’m having a live chat on Twitter, and people keep saying they’re my biggest fan and will I go out with them,” Kurt said.

“But we’ve been married for four years,” Blaine said, plopping down next to Kurt. “We wear wedding rings and everything.”

“I have no idea how people don’t know, Blaine - unless…,” Kurt trailed off, looking contemplative.

“Unless what?” Blaine furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, the last few events we attended - you know, the ones that actually got media coverage - we showed up separately and barely found each other inside,” Kurt said.

“And we do use our given last names professionally, since our married names are kind of a mouthful,” Blaine added, having caught on to Kurt’s thoughts.

“Oh my God, no one knows we’re married,” Kurt said, stricken. “Not even our biggest fans - which, really? It’s gotta be on our Wikipedia pages.”

“Nope,” Blaine said, already checking on his phone. “Mine says nothing, and yours says _rumored to be in a relationship with another theater phenom square brackets citation needed._ ”

“We’re phenoms?” Kurt preened, momentarily distracted by the praise. “Sorry. Anyways, we should probably do something about this.”

“Well, you’re already on Twitter,” Blaine said, smirking playfully. “There’s always posting a selfie.”

“I like the way you think, favorite husband,” Kurt said, smirking back. “Scooch in, we’ve gotta make this super cute in case we make BuzzFeed or something.”

Blaine cuddled in close to Kurt, leaning his head and left hand on Kurt’s shoulder to fully show off his ring. “Ready.”

“Smile!” Kurt ordered. After reviewing the photo, he started typing up a caption for Twitter and Instagram.

_kurthummel: To everyone who’s proposed marriage to me today: sorry! You’re a little late - banderson got there four years ago. #loveyou_

The responses were instantaneous.

_kurtsie5evr: WHAT?!?!?!??!_

_klainetruther: I KNEW ITTT!!!!! OMGFHISLFHK THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE_

_anderberry: publicity stunt. calling it now. blaine and rachel r meant 2 b._

_kurtsie5evr: so happy for you, kurthummel! I still say I’m a bigger fan of you than he is, tho ;)_

Blaine couldn’t let the fans have all the fun, though, posting:

_banderson: #regram from kurthummel: He said yes!...four years ago. But everyday feels like a honeymoon with you, dear. #loveyoutoo_

“That’s it, I think we’re going to break Twitter. Or at least Broadway Twitter,” Kurt said, pecking a kiss to Blaine’s cheek. “Take that, Kim Kardashian!”

“Are you free from livetweeting yet?” Blaine asked, curling back into Kurt’s side. “Croissants from that bakery down the street sound amazing - I’ve really worked up an appetite from all this excitement.”

“I have never loved you more.”


	7. Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fits in with my headcanon daddies!verse (listed as the Evi!verse on here), but can be followed regardless.

The book is typical kindergarten fare, laminated construction paper cover and special paper inside with both lines for text and a space for pictures. Ella’s teacher neatly printed the words, though they’re clearly taken from Ella’s exact dictation, and the pictures are bold splotches of crayon and glitter glue - Kurt thinks they show artistic promise. Blaine wants to get them hung in the MoMA.

They can’t help but reread it in more detail in bed that night.

“A Guide to My Family, by Elena Beth Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt reads, tracing over the bump on the cover where a picture of the four of them has been glued down.

“One of my daddies is Papa,” Blaine says once they flip the page, smiling over at Kurt. “He is the best at tea parties and never makes me wear clothes I don’t like. Papa sings all the princess parts whenever Vivi and I ask for songs.”

“My other daddy is Daddy,” Kurt says, emulating Blaine’s sing-song tone. “He makes heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast every Saturday and is a superhero. Daddy sings all the prince parts.”

“Both of my daddies are actors, like Auntie Rachel and Uncle Jesse. That means they get to play pretend as a job! I would like to be just like my daddies when I grow up but also a soccer player.” Blaine pauses. “Wow, she really does love soccer if she’s saying that after only a year of playing.”

“We’ll have to keep her enrolled,” Kurt says, making a mental note. He turns the page and continues, “Then there’s me. I’m the oldest and the smartest. I like playing soccer and my fairy wings and Papa’s special snickerdoodle cookies. Auntie Rachel says I’m just as stubborn as her, and my daddies will have to watch out.”

“Good Lord,” Blaine says, dragging a hand over his face. “She also got Rachel’s lack of boundaries, I see.”

“I’m sorry, have you repressed the Gap Attack entirely? Maybe she’s not yours biologically, but she’s still yours,” Kurt says pointedly.

Blaine glowers, making Kurt lean in and kiss his cheek.

“C’mon, read about our other daughter.”

“Vivi is the baby. She’s getting better at playing dolls with me, but she still tries to eat their hands sometimes, so I have to yell at her. She’s good at dress-up, though. I love my baby sister the most in the entire world,” Blaine says, tearing up.

“Is that them holding hands?” Kurt asks, pointing at the drawing on Vivi’s page. It features a long-haired brunette in a purple tutu and a smaller figure in a pink tutu with a giant swirl of black spirals around her head. Kurt can only assume they’re meant to be Vivi’s sometimes unruly curls.

“I think so,” Blaine says, running a finger over the page gently. “In their Christmas presents from Tina last year.”

“Okay, last page,” Kurt says, taking the book again. “My family is the bestest family. Daddy and Papa are always hugging and kissing each other and me and Vivi, and there’s always sweets and music. Emily says my family can’t be a real family since we don’t have a mommy, but I think she’s just jealous because her mommy says she has to be vegan. If she could live with us, I think she’d be a lot happier. So would anyone.”

Kurt chokes up as he finishes reading, hastily moving the book out of the way so he won’t splash the pages. Blaine pulls him in close, tears sparkling on his own cheeks as well.

“Is it bad that I want us to become the Von Trapp family now?” Kurt asks, laughing wetly and wiping his eyes.

“Why stop there? I was thinking we could go full _Cheaper by the Dozen_ ,” Blaine responds, voice squeaking as it always does when he cries. “Brad and Angie will have nothing on us.”

“Let’s revisit this in the morning over a surprise round of heart-shaped pancakes,” Kurt says, flicking off the lamp and laying down.

“On a Tuesday? You’re going soft in your old age,” Blaine teases, snuggling up next to Kurt.

“Watch yourself, or Vivi’s edition is only going to feature Papa.”

“I mean, pancakes sound amazing. Especially if they come with coffee from that street vendor down the block?”

“I’ll run out and grab drinks as you mix the batter. We’ll do pancakes and hot chocolate.”

“We really are the bestest family.”

“Damn straight.”


	8. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of cancer, but there is (of course) a happy ending.

Kurt was sitting silently, staring at his phone. Blaine was sitting silently, staring at Kurt.

“It’s still a little early, Kurt, they might-”

“Shh.”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt said, voice thickening. “You’re making me screw up my count, which is going to make me miss the call from Carole, and then-”

“Baby,” Blaine said when Kurt didn’t - probably couldn’t - continue. “What were you counting?”

“Beats,” Kurt replied, slow tears trickling down his face. “If I breathe in time with the rhythm of Dad’s favorite song, then everything will be fine.”

“And what song-”

“And on top of that, I wore my lucky light blue socks. The same pair as last time,” Kurt said, barging right over Blaine’s question. “Positive colors will yield a good outcome, too. Are you wearing your - _Blaine._ You’re not wearing your socks!”

Blaine blushed a little at Kurt’s sharp glare. “I completely spaced, Kurt, I’m so sorry.”

“You need to be wearing your lucky socks in order for Dad to have a good diagnosis. That’s the _only_ thing I asked you to do, Blaine, so just _please_ go get them and put them on before eleven fourteen.”

“Why the specific-”

“Dad’s birthday, Blaine! July _fourteenth_. He was gonna be fifty this year.”

Blaine was about to note Kurt’s use of the past tense, but his husband’s sudden breakdown into tears became more pressing. “Kurt, baby. Burt’s not gonna die.”

“How do you know?” Kurt asked. His tone was acerbic, but when he turned to look at Blaine, Blaine could see the pleading in his eyes.

“He’s beaten cancer once before,” Blaine said, scooting down the couch to wrap Kurt in his arms. “And he’s been taking care of himself, you know that. Plus, this scan was just to make sure that the weird thing on his lungs wasn’t cancer, not to start radiation or anything. He could be totally fine. We’ve just gotta have….”

“Have?” Kurt’s voice was small, making Blaine’s heart clench.

“Hope. We’ve gotta have hope,” Blaine finished, feeling kind of lame. He wanted to have better, stronger words to give Kurt, but when he tried to articulate his thoughts, that was all he could do.

“I can’t lose another family member, Blaine. I want to believe like you do, but after Finn and my mom…,” Kurt trailed off. “Hope is the last thing I can conjure up right now.”

Blaine just tightened his hold on Kurt, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t be trivial or impossibly cheesy. He could feel the shoulder of his sweater getting soaked with Kurt’s tears, but that wasn’t important - not when Kurt was finally expressing his emotions.

Before Blaine could think of anything to say, Kurt’s phone rang.

Kurt dove for it, nearly falling off the couch in his haste. “Carole? Okay...okay... _what?_ ”

“What’s she saying?”

“I can’t - oh my God. Well, this is definitely better than I was expecting to hear. Tell Dad I love him, and I love you too. Bye.”

“What’s better than you expected to hear?” Blaine demanded, frantic.

“Dad’s totally fine,” Kurt said, making Blaine heave a sigh of relief. “All his tests came back totally clean - in fact, there was nothing on his lungs.”

“But that x-ray….”

“The hospital doctors checked out those images again,” Kurt said dryly. “That lump in Dad’s lungs was suspiciously fly shaped.”

“So you’re saying-”

“The machine wasn’t clean. Whatever nurse took Dad’s x-rays didn’t notice the dead fly sitting in the lens.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“That’s Lima for you,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “Hopefully Dad looks into finding a new physician after this.”

“Agreed. But he’s not sick!”

“He’s not sick,” Kurt confirmed, smiling beatifically. “I’m not going to lose my dad, Blaine!”

“We’ve got to celebrate. What would you like to do?” Blaine asked.

“I think I need to thank my husband for being so incredibly supportive when I was barely holding it together,” Kurt said coyly.

“Oh?”

“Let’s see how long _he_ can hold it together, shall we?”

“Oh my G- _mmpf_.”

(As it turned out, Blaine wasn’t too shabby at keeping his _composure_ either. Especially when Kurt “put a ring on it,” as it were.)


	9. Indecent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings necessary. :)

“Put that _thing_ away.”

“C’mon, babe, it’s not that bad,” Blaine said, motioning to the heap of fabric next to him on the bed. “I think you’ll look great.”

“Of course you do,” Kurt sneered, backing away from the bed like it was a monster ready to pounce. “That thing is indecent, Blaine. I’m not wearing it.”

“But you have to.”

“Says who?”

“Says the invitation, remember? Mandatory dress code.”

“I always knew Elliott was a pervert, but I didn’t think it was this bad,” Kurt grumbled, arms folded across his chest.

“You make it sound like we’re going to some kind of S&M party,” Blaine said, trying not to laugh too obviously - best not to provoke more of Kurt’s ire.

“I’d almost prefer that!” Kurt said, provoking some mental images in Blaine that made him choke. “I _have_ bondage-inspired apparel. I look _amazing_ in bondage-inspired apparel! But _this?_ ” Kurt picked up the bulky green sweater distastefully between his index finger and thumb. “This is a crime against humanity.”

“Oh, come on, it’s festive,” Blaine said, smiling. The sweater had knitted Christmas ornaments, jingle bells, and working lights festooned across it, with a gold star on the neckline and a velvet “skirt” around the hem. “It’s totally going to win the ugly sweater contest, too.”

“You really think so?” Kurt asked, hesitantly intrigued.

“For sure,” Blaine said. “It’s completely gaudy. No one could possibly compete unless they literally glued a reindeer to their chest.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Rachel,” Kurt said darkly, but he had shifted his grip to have a better hold on the garment. “And you promise that we can burn it afterwards?”

“I’ll let you light the first match,” Blaine said calmly. “But if you win, I doubt you’ll want to burn your victory sweater.”

“If I win, it can stay. If I lose, we’re having a bonfire when we get home,” Kurt said. “Deal?”

“Deal. Now get dressed, I don’t want to miss Dani’s gourmet eggnog!”


	10. Jumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short, sweet, silly, and slightly sexy.

Most days, the sound of Blaine humming in the hallway as he came home didn’t fill Kurt with panic.

Most days, however, Kurt wasn’t trying to get Blaine’s Christmas presents wrapped.

“Shit,” Kurt whispered, scanning the piles of wrapping paper, tissue, ribbons, and bows that surrounded him. Thankfully, all of Blaine’s gifts were technically _wrapped_ \- they just weren’t accessorized up to Kurt’s standards yet. Still, he had to clear everything out of the way before Blaine walked in and tried to figure out what Kurt had gotten him. “Okay, okay, _think_ , Kurt.”

Kurt gathered up the rolls of wrapping paper and a couple of Blaine’s presents, figuring he’d stash them in the closet in the spare room and get back to them later. In his haste, though, he didn’t quite lift his feet high enough to clear the pile of ribbons in his way, causing him to trip, twist, and crash land on his back right in the middle of the jumble.

“Ow.”

“Kurt!” Blaine said, rushing over from the doorway. He was still bundled up in his coat and scarf, dripping melted snow all around him.

“No, no, don’t look!” Kurt said, trying futilely to hide the presents in his arms. The more he wiggled, though, the more stuck he got, and eventually he gave up with a groan.

Blaine made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a hastily choked down laugh.

“You’re the worst,” Kurt grumbled.

“Like you wouldn’t be crying with mirth if our positions were reversed,” Blaine said. He carefully took the presents from Kurt’s arms and stacked them on the coffee table before crouching down and untangling the ribbons around Kurt’s ankles.

“No comment,” Kurt said haughtily, freeing his arms and torso from the mess.

“Uh huh.” Blaine raised his eyebrows knowingly before helping Kurt up. “Whatever you say, dear.”

“You realize that all of these Christmas presents you see here could still disappear before the 25th.”

“But I’ve been a good boy this year,” Blaine whined, pouting playfully.

“I dunno, I think you might have to prove it,” Kurt teased with a smirk. “Ahh!”

Blaine smirked up at Kurt before carrying him off toward the bedroom. “If that’s what it takes.”

A few hours later, Kurt was thoroughly convinced.


	11. Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a continuation of yesterday's piece.

“Oh God.”

“Did I really wear you out that bad last night?” Blaine asked, stretching and pressing a good morning kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Because I’m pretty sure I did most of the work.”

“No, no, I think I screwed up my neck after that fall,” Kurt said, cupping a hand around the back of his throat. “It hurts just laying down, fuck.”

“Let me see,” Blaine said, gently coaxing Kurt to turn all the way onto his belly. He carefully straddled Kurt’s back before probing around his neck. “Right here?”

“Ow! Yeah.”

“Jesus, there’s like a kink the size of a golf ball,” Blaine said, feeling all around Kurt’s throat. “Been stressed recently, honey?”

“Tis the season,” Kurt said wryly.

Blaine started softly massaging Kurt’s neck and shoulders, grateful that his mom’s short-lived desire to become a massage therapist had taught him how to do this right. “Well, not today, okay? We’re taking a holiday from the holidays.”

“And what exactly - _oh hell yes right there_ \- are you proposing, B?”

“No Christmas shopping or present wrapping. No more preparing for any of the eight thousand parties we’ve been invited to. Instead, we’re going to be tourists.”

“Uh, we kind of live he-”

“I know,” Blaine interrupted, pressing down harder on a stubborn knot. “But that’s the beauty of it - we know we have the rest of our lives to hit every spot in the city. Today, we choose like three tops and spend all day exploring them to our hearts’ content. They can be Christmassy or not, I don’t care, but today we’re taking a little time for ourselves.”

“I _have_ always wanted to hang out at Rockefeller Center…,” Kurt mused, slowly going limp under Blaine’s hands.

“Then let’s do it. Maybe we can go skating again, reprise our duet from a couple years ago….”

“You’re already trying to repeat Christmas songs this early in the game? For _shame_ , Blaine. There are so many unexplored options still!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Blaine said, laughing lightly. “I haven’t had any coffee yet, my brain’s not awake.”

“You’re forgiven - for now. Full forgiveness must wait until after I hear what songs you’ve thought up once we get to the rink,” Kurt said haughtily. Some of the grandeur was lost by the way he was practically purring under Blaine’s touch, though.

“I won’t let you down.”

“You never do.”


	12. Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings needed, except maybe for a fluff overload.

“You’re a legend.”

“Blaine, I haven’t even headlined a show yet,” Kurt said. He smiled contentedly as he traced over Blaine’s side, curled up face to face with him in bed. “I think it might be a little premature to call me a legend.”

“No, no, not that kind of legend - though of course you’ll be that kind, too,” Blaine said, propping himself up on one arm. “I was deep in the internet the other day and found a list of words that have secondary, lesser-known meanings, and legend was one of them.”

“And what’s the other meaning?” Kurt asked, curious.

“A table that explains the meaning of all the symbols on a map.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” Kurt said, flashing back to an elementary school geography lesson. “But how am I a legend in that context?”

“Because you make sense of me,” Blaine said, blushing slightly. “I know, it’s cheesy, but - it’s true. You help me figure out what I’m feeling or where I need to go next. You’re my legend.”

“It’s not cheesy,” Kurt said, staring Blaine right in the eyes. “And you’re my legend too, you know. You’ve helped me ever since the day we met. I wouldn’t quite know how to navigate without you around.”

“Oh God, we’re so sappy,” Blaine said, huffing out a squeaky laugh as he wiped a tear off his cheek. “I thought the honeymoon phase was supposed to fade.”

“But if you make me feel like a newlywed every day, how is the honeymoon ever supposed to end?” Kurt asked with a straight face.

Their composure lasted for about four seconds until Blaine snorted and Kurt laughed so hard that he had to wheeze for breath.

“Okay, yeah, that was too far,” Kurt said, wiping his own eyes. “We’re going to need to have a fight or something later today to atone for that egregious joke.”

“I could try to harass you about something now if you want to get it over with,” Blaine said, gazing up at the ceiling as he quickly scanned through his memory.

“Absolutely not,” Kurt said, snuggling up to Blaine. “Right now, I am in bed with my wonderful husband who is just the right amount of cheesy, and I want to enjoy his company as we watch the snow fall for the first time.”

Blaine fluffed up his pillow before settling back down and pulling Kurt closer. “Whatever you say, love.”


	13. Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff + feelings.

Blaine couldn’t help but hum as he and Kurt walked hand in hand through the surprisingly charming Lima neighborhood, taking in the Christmas lights after dark.

_All is calm, all is bright._

The lyric wasn’t wrong, either - the moon was out in full force, illuminating everything that wasn’t directly under a streetlight with a soft, silvery glow. It was that light that allowed Blaine to notice the tear tracks on Kurt’s face.

Silently, Blaine offered Kurt his hankie, figuring he may just have been overcome by the season - God knew Blaine felt the same way sometimes.

When Kurt stopped walking and burst into audible sobs at the gesture, though, Blaine knew something more was up.

“Honey?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kurt said, dabbing at his eyes. “Oh my God, I’m being ridiculous.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Blaine said, feeling panicky. “You’re scaring me, Kurt.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand. “Everything feels impossibly, unbelievably right. That’s why I’m crying.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Six months ago I was stupid and pushed you away. Three months ago you were happily dating someone else and I thought all hope was lost. If someone had told me at either of those times that by Christmas, we’d be living together as husbands, I’d’ve asked them what they were smoking - or if it were Britt, I’d just change the subject quickly,” Kurt said, a few more tears escaping. “I can’t believe you wanted me back, Blaine. I can’t believe you’re _here._ ”

Blaine bit his lip, feeling himself choke up at Kurt’s explanation. “Always, Kurt. You’ve always been it for me, even when I dated Dave. Hell, he knew before I did that I wanted you back.”

“Walter was the same,” Kurt admitted. “He was the one who told me to run to you that day before the wedding - though I don’t know if he meant it as literally as I took it.”

“You’ve always gone above and beyond,” Blaine said, squeaking out a laugh.

“I’m sorry for everything,” Kurt said, staring Blaine in the eyes seriously. “I know, we’re works in progress and we’re not dwelling on the past, but I just needed to say it.”

“I’m sorry too,” Blaine said. “We both messed up, Kurt, not just you. But we’re better now. We know what not to do, even if we end up doing it anyways. And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Ditto,” Kurt said, giggling slightly. “I told you years ago that I’m never saying goodbye to you, and I’m finally going to make good on that promise.”

“Well, I made you a promise too, if I recall correctly.”

“Oh?” Kurt asked coyly.

“I said I’d kiss you whenever and wherever you want, and I’m getting the feeling-”

Kurt pulled Blaine in for a deep, long kiss, wrapping his arms around his shoulders like he needed the anchor.

“Yep, I was right.”


	14. Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a really bad pun at the end?

“Thank you so much for doing this.”

“I’m your husband, it’s part of my job description,” Blaine teased, tossing his messenger bag in the corner of the dance studio before smiling over at Kurt. “And I could hear how stressed you sounded over the phone.”

“Because the show opens in a week, Blaine!” Kurt said, voice going high with panic. “If I don’t get this number right, we’re going to get bad reviews and tank before the ink is even dry on the playbills.”

“Whoa, hey, take a deep breath, babe,” Blaine said, hastening over to Kurt so he could rub his arms soothingly. “You said you’ve got the steps, just not the mood?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’ll be fine. We’ll run it and try to figure out how to get the emotions there, but worse comes to worst, they’ll just rave about your technical perfection and forget all about the emotion.”

Kurt just glared.

“Okay, they might mention the emotion. But also the perfection!” Blaine amended. “So c’mon. Show me what you’ve got.”

“We’re mostly just emulating the choreo from the original staging, but with a few flares and twists for the sake of being unique,” Kurt said, shaking out his limbs. “Think you can follow while I lead?”

“I’m pretty familiar with the routine,” Blaine said with a shrug, prompting a snort from Kurt - they both knew that Blaine had watched the bootleg approximately six dozen times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kurt hit play on the speaker system and started guiding Blaine through the dance. At first, Blaine was stunned - Kurt wasn’t having any problems connecting to the emotion as far as he could tell. His eye contact was perfect, deepening the intensity without getting creepy or awkward, and his posture was straight but also fitted to Blaine’s form whenever possible, adding to the intimacy. By the end of the number, though, Blaine had figured out Kurt’s scheme.

“You - little - minx,” Blaine huffed, out of breath from both the exertion and the looks Kurt had given him. “You weren’t struggling with the emotion at all.”

“I’ll admit it was never quite that overpowering before, but…,” Kurt said, smirking at Blaine as he caught his own breath. “I may have had an ulterior motive.”

Blaine surged forward, pinning Kurt to the nearest (and thankfully not barre-ed) wall and kissing him passionately. “You could’ve just asked, you know.”

“But this was more fun, especially since you didn’t know it was coming. You got more into it this way.”

“So what you’re saying is...you’ve got my number.”

Kurt bit his lip and shoved Blaine away in disgust. “Aaaand you’ve ruined it with that pun.”

“I’m sorry. I can fix it,” Blaine said, stepping forward again.

And fix it he did.


	15. Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No regrets, just fluff. Mentions of Britt and Brittana.

“You know what I just realized? We live on the Eastern Seaboard now and I’ve _still_ never seen the ocean.”

“You never went out to Coney Island or anything? Sam and I went like the first day we got here,” Blaine said, flabbergasted.

“I’ve always been so busy with work and classes and trips back to Ohio to revive the New Directions that I haven’t had the chance.” Kurt shrugged. “And it’s not like we’ve ever lived near it, either. Bushwick’s super inland and Williamsburg’s only on the East River. I mean, I guess I’ve technically seen the ocean from planes, but I’ve never actually been close to it. Weird, right?”

“It’s probably more common than we’re assuming,” Blaine said, ever unwilling to make Kurt feel outcast. “But it’s also something we can change. Go grab your coat!”

“What? But it’s the middle of Dec-”

“And it’s like fifty-five degrees, because clearly the planet is dying and we’re all too busy watching the Kardashians to care,” Blaine interrupted, flapping a hand dismissively. “We don’t have to _swim_ in it, but you still deserve to see it. Let’s go!”

Kurt laughed incredulously. “Okay. Okay! Let’s go to the ocean.”

________________

“Wow.”

“It’s really something, isn’t it?”

“It’s just so...vast. I know we’re not even looking east, but I still feel like it goes on forever.”

“And our ancestors had to sail it to get here. Can you even imagine? Like, today if we got West End jobs and they said to get there in a week, we could do it. Not without some stress, obviously, but we could. A hundred years ago, though? We would’ve thought that was a crazy request.”

“We also wouldn’t have been able to travel as husbands,” Kurt said, looping his arm in Blaine’s and letting Blaine rest his head on his shoulder. “I admit I love some of those vintage silhouettes, but I much prefer being able to tell the world how much I love _you_.”

“So it’s settled. We’re never traveling back in time.”

“You say that like it’s a realistic possibility.”

“Britt was telling me about some of her research at MIT. If she and Santana ever stop nesting, it’s a realistic possibility.”

“...I’m buying them a cozy blanket, some wine, and a giftcard to an, um, _adult_ store for Christmas.”

“I already compiled a list of options and bookmarked them in my browser. Pick your favorite color scheme and we can have them shipped tomorrow.”

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

“Well, Britt also-”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that joke.”

“Spoilsport.” Blaine pouted. He forgot all about his woes when Kurt bent down and kissed him so hard his toes curled, though.


	16. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possibly inaccurate review writing, but whatever.

“Oh God, I’m too afraid to look.”

“Well that’s not good, because I am too,” Blaine said, shifting his weight nervously as they waited near the newsstand. “How are we supposed to read this review now?”

“Maybe if we pay Antone a little extra, he’ll read it to us?” Kurt suggested before biting down harshly on his lower lip. “Or maybe we should’ve brought Dad after all.”

“No one else wanted to get up this early, though,” Blaine said. “They all called us crazy for wanting to wait for the actual print version of the paper.”

“It’s tradition,” Kurt reminded him unnecessarily. “We did it with Rachel and she got raves, and the same thing happened when Mike headlined his first production in Chicago. Was that not clear enough for our parents?”

“I think they just wanted to be able to brag about us to their heart’s content,” Blaine said. He caught a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye. “Oh my God, he’s setting out the papers.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Kurt said, swaying a little.

Blaine reached over and squeezed his arm sympathetically. “Stay here. I’ll go get the paper.”

“Blaine! I have three copies for you,” Antone said genially as Blaine approached. “Free of charge.”

“What? No, we have to pay you,” Blaine said, reaching for his wallet only for Antone to lean forward and halt his arm.

“You have your first review in the New York Times today. I’m not making you pay for something this special,” Antone said. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said sincerely, cradling the little stack of papers carefully.

“Go celebrate!” Antone said, waving him off with a smile.

Blaine headed back over to Kurt, who was biting at a fingernail and tapping one foot anxiously.

“What’s it say what’s it say what’s it say?”

“Hold on,” Blaine said, handing two of the papers to Kurt and opening the third to the theater section. “Not us...not us...here! ‘Passion Is Key to Albee Revival.’”

“That doesn’t sound terrible,” Kurt said, looking hopeful.

“Okay, praising the concept...not a fan of the minimal set design, but whatever, that’s subjective…’Kurt Hummel is a wonder as the cold, cruel George, nailing both his loud, aggressive actions and his subtler, more passive aggressive words with an icy glare that lowered the temperature of the theater palpably.”

“No!” Kurt said, stunned. “It doesn’t say that!”

“Look!” Blaine said, beaming up at his husband and handing over the paper.

“Well, what does it say about - here we go,” Kurt said, scanning the review rapidly. “Equally phenomenal is Blaine Anderson as ‘Martin’ (originally Martha), George’s husband. Anderson plays Martin as both pitiful and pernicious in turns, delivering blistering insults and emotional breakdowns with the skill of a seasoned professional.”

“Offstage, Anderson and Hummel are also married, which may explain how they so easily fall into the headspaces of George and Martin,” Blaine read after snatching the paper back. “True Broadway aficionados know that these actors are head over heels for each other - especially after that picture of them snuggling at Sardi’s made the rounds last week - and Anderson and Hummel are clearly calling upon their passion for one another as they trade insults and blows, adding a realistic yet horrifying touch to their interactions. While this reporter doubts that they are just as destructive behind closed doors, their familiarity with each other heightens the drama in a way that has never been seen before.”

“If you’ve been on the fence about seeing this revival, hop off it now,” Kurt finished, stealing the paper again. “Anderson and Hummel are on the rise to stardom, and one day this production will be talked about as the beginning of two long, illustrious careers. This reporter can only hope that the next time they work together, however, they get to be just as in love onstage as they are off.”

“That was sweet,” Blaine said, smiling with tear-filled eyes. “We should send him flowers.”

“Definitely,” Kurt said. “But first we have to celebrate. Blaine! Oh my God!”

“They said you’re a wonder!”

“They said you’re phenomenal!”

“I love you so much,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt in for a deep kiss, papers be damned.

“I love you too,” Kurt replied, misty-eyed. “Think they’ll let us revive _The Sound of Music_ next? That reporter did say we should get to be in love next time….”

“With us, I believe anything’s possible.”


	17. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too sappy for my own good, probs, but otherwise warning-free.

Rose petals rained down around him as the music swelled and scores of unidentifiable people came into sight. Then, out of the clamor, one bright, smiling figure drew his focus, stepping onto the stairwell to meet Kurt - _to meet him halfway, not make him come all the way down just to be rebuffed_ \- and take his hand.

Kurt waited, trembling, hoping beyond hope.

Blaine opened his mouth.

_BUZZ!_

“Hwa?” Kurt said, shocked into wakefulness. “Oh.”

He shut off the alarm and rolled over, cuddling into Blaine’s warm side.

“Good morning,” Blaine said, sounding a little bemused. He stroked over Kurt’s back slowly while releasing a squeaky yawn. “Sleep well?”

“I was having a great dream,” Kurt said, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes again. “It was the day you proposed.”

“You really consider that a great dream?” Blaine asked. The hesitant tone made Kurt crack his eyes open and squint up at Blaine suspiciously. “I mean, because of everything that happened after.”

“We still got married, didn’t we?” Kurt replied, stretching one arm across Blaine’s torso to his left hand, where his wedding ring was.

“Obviously. But we also kind of broke up in between that day and the wedding,” Blaine said, squeezing the hand Kurt had flung across him.

“It’s not like either of us popped the question again,” Kurt pointed out. “I mean, yeah, we discussed whether we were ready when Brittany and Sue surprised us with those tuxes, but there wasn’t another moment where one of us got down on one knee and just went for it.”

“Did you want me to? Because I was kind of considering it but it felt weird and who knew what kind of surveillance Sue had on that ba-”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, reaching up and pressing his finger to Blaine’s lips. “I didn’t want a redo. Your proposal was perfect, even if some of the moments that followed weren’t. I felt so - so _connected_ that day. Safe. Loved.”

Blaine’s lips started to wobble as he teared up. “You really felt that way?”

“God, Blaine, every day with you makes me feel that way,” Kurt said, frowning slightly - he thought Blaine _knew._ “Even when we were fighting - you walked away that last time and I suddenly felt like a Macy’s parade balloon that had been set loose on the streets. I think I knew then that I’d fucked up, but you were hurting and I didn’t know how to _tell_ you - God, I never know how to tell you, but I’m working on it, I’m _trying - gmpf._ ”

Kurt was shut up by Blaine pulling him in for a kiss. “I know you’re trying, Kurt. I’m trying too - trying to understand that you needing space doesn’t mean you don’t need me. It’s hard some days, but I think we’re both getting better.”

“So I don’t need to hire a skywriter to proclaim my love for you over the city?” Kurt asked, a tiny smile on his face. “Because I was considering it.”

“I think I’ll be okay. Appreciate the thought, though.”

“Just keep me posted. I saved the number in my phone just in case,” Kurt said. He yawned at the end of his sentence, not quite able to wake up while surrounded by their cozy comforter and Blaine’s body heat. “Mmmm.”

“Sleep, Kurt. We didn’t even need to set that alarm in the first place.”

“Mkay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	18. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to anyone named Tyler who isn't an asshat like this guy.

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?” Kurt asked, thrown.

“Marrying so young,” his classmate - Tyler? Tyler. - said, faux-concerned. “I mean, it could affect the roles you’re chosen for.”

“I don’t think marital status is really a going concern for most casting directors,” Kurt said, trying to speed up and lose Tyler in the crowded halls. “They care more about _talent_ , in my experience.”

“Exactly my point,” Tyler said, somehow keeping up with Kurt’s dodges. “You’re one of the best here, sure, but out in the real world, you’ll have more competition. And what will you have at home?”

Kurt froze, glaring icily at Tyler.

“ _Anderson_ ,” Tyler said, smug smile on his douchey face. “Who couldn’t even cut it here. Where is he now, community college? Or did he just give up entirely and become your little househusband?”

“Watch it,” Kurt said, seeing red.

“Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be so bad,” Tyler continued. “I always thought he was kind of cute, if you can stomach big-eyed little twinks. May as well use his mouth for something he’s actually good at right?”

Kurt snapped.

“How dare you,” he snarled, shoving Tyler against the closest wall and holding him there by pressing his arm to his throat. “Is this what you do instead of your homework? Because it shows, especially in Ms. July’s class - or did you forget how she called you an embarrassment to the school, the profession, and the entire human race earlier?”

Tyler let out a slight whine.

“I’m sorry that you’re so insecure about your own skill that you need to take it out on me and my husband, who I absolutely do not regret marrying. If I hear you talking about our personal lives again, though-”

“Kurt!” Blaine appeared out of nowhere, hurrying over and trying to pry him off of Tyler. “Babe, what are you _doing?_ ”

“Let go, Blaine, he needs to hear this!”

“I’m sure you’re right, but you’re going to miss your audition next week if you get arrested!” Blaine said, successfully yanking Kurt’s arm away from Tyler’s throat. “Is he really worth that?”

Kurt fixed Tyler with one more bone-chilling glare before letting him go. “No. Unfortunately.”

“That’s what I thought,” Blaine said, linking his arm with Kurt’s and walking away.

“What are you even doing here?” Kurt asked. “Not that I’m angry about it, of course, but NYU isn’t exactly next door.”

“I had to come tell you!” Blaine said, beaming. “I got Jimmy!”

“No!” Kurt said, stopping and throwing his arms around Blaine. “I knew you could do it!”

“What musical even has a character named Jimmy?” Tyler asked, popping up like a stubborn fungus. “Did they let you name Third Citizen From The Left in order to feel good about yourself?”

“ _Thoroughly Modern Millie_ , you jackass,” Kurt said, stepping away from Blaine only to have his husband grab his hand quickly and anchor him down. “Do you even pay attention in class?”

“Kurt, c’mon,” Blaine said quietly before Tyler could retort. “Just leave. He’s not worth it, and even if he keeps following us, we can at least call the police once we’re back on private property.”

“Fine. You’re right,” Kurt said, holding the door to NYADA’s student center open for Blaine as they headed out. “We can’t let one blowhard ruin our celebration! Did you want to stop and get drinks or dessert?”

“I thought we could uncork that champagne we brought back with us from the wedding,” Blaine said, a little uncertain. “I know we said we were saving it for something special….”

“What, this isn’t special? We can absolutely drink some of that tonight,” Kurt said, squeezing Blaine’s hand before letting out a snort.

“What was that about?”

“Tyler was trying to say marriage would inhibit us. Looks like that’s not really the case, huh?”

“Thankfully not. Marrying you was probably one of my better choices overall.”

“Probably?”

“Definitely. I never regret choosing you.”

“Nor do I.”


	19. Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon daddies!verse, but no prior knowledge is needed.

Kurt hated feeling cliched, but he had to admit that all the parenting blogs and manuals had it right: being a father _was_ a shift. Late nights and long mornings sleeping in were replaced by early bedtimes and many, many wake-up calls from a fussy newborn. Reality TV fell by the wayside in favor of educational programming, regardless of their baby’s inability to speak and comprehend English. Invitations to parties were turned down so they could spend time with their precious sweetheart of a daughter.

“How is she?” Blaine asked softly, coming up behind Kurt at the side of the crib.

“Finally sleeping,” Kurt said, not looking away from Ella. He was hungry to capture every moment of her life, even the seemingly meaningless ones. “Hopefully for a while, but who knows?”

“I’ll take first watch tonight,” Blaine said. “You were with her all day while I had that audition, it’s the least I can do.”

“I’m not turning you down, but it wasn’t _that_ bad today,” Kurt said, wrapping an arm around Blaine’s waist. “She’s getting used to me holding her in one arm while trying to make dinner or put away laundry in the other, so it wasn’t quite as stressful as other days.”

“I still can’t believe she’s real. That she’s _ours_ , permanently. How did we get so lucky?” Blaine asked, cuddling into Kurt’s side.

“We finally reached happily ever after,” Kurt said. “I mean, sure, every day has its ups and downs, and it’s not always easy, but at the end of the day, I know I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

“And we get eighteen more years of this,” Blaine said. “Can you even imagine what she might be like then?”

“No, stop,” Kurt said, shuddering dramatically. “I already think she’s growing too fast, don’t make it end sooner than it has to!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine said, laughing and kissing Kurt’s cheek. “Think you can drag yourself away long enough to go to bed, at least?”

“You can probably twist my arm,” Kurt said. He yawned deeply, feeling his jaw pop a little. “Make that definitely.”

“C’mon, Papa. Ella will need us soon enough.”


	20. Time

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to time his breathing to a slow, measured count.

_In for four...hold for six....out for eight._

“Kurt, honey, are you okay?” Blaine said softly, breaking Kurt’s concentration. He walked over from their dressing room doorway and put a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “You’re looking a little - shaky.”

“You remember what I asked you before our duet at Regionals?” Kurt replied, trying not to shiver too obviously.

“If anyone had ever literally died onstage.”

“Remind me again how that won’t happen?” Kurt asked. “I keep having these feelings like I’m going to vomit or go up on all my lines even though you told me I’ve been quoting this play in my sleep for weeks now.”

“Whoa, where’d all these nerves come from?” Blaine said, rubbing over Kurt’s shoulders. “You know you’re going to be great.”

“I’ve realized that I’m never not going to be nervous before a show,” Kurt said, relaxing slightly. “I think my brain likes to prepare for the worst, so that way when everything goes off smoothly, the success feels even sweeter.”

“Funny, I’m the exact opposite,” Blaine said. “I feel so _alive_ before a show starts, just from taking in all the energy in the building. It reminds me that this is what I’m meant to do, you know? The only thing that makes me happier is being with you.”

“Sap,” Kurt teased lovingly. “But I get what you mean - once we actually _start_ a show, I get that feeling too. Like static electricity running through my whole body.”

“Makes you feel unstoppable, right?”

“The only thing that makes me feel more powerful is being with you.”

“Now who’s the sap?” Blaine teased, tickling over Kurt’s neck and making him squirm.

“Places!” the intercom buzzed over Kurt’s giggles.

“It’s time,” Blaine said, soft and serious. “You want me to hide a bucket in the wings just in case?”

“No. I’m ready to show NYC what we’ve got,” Kurt said firmly. “C’mon, Martin. Let’s go see if anyone’s afraid of Virginia Woolf.”


	21. Underneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of cracky, but hopefully in the good way.

Kurt gets ambushed the second he comes home from class.

“Merry Christmas!” Blaine says, pecking a kiss to Kurt’s lips before he’s even properly inside.

“Wha - oh,” Kurt says, looking up as he feels something brushing the top of his coif. “Mistletoe.”

“It was on sale at the corner market,” Blaine explains. “I couldn’t not get it.”

“Understandable,” Kurt says. He finally gets inside and hangs up his coat before leaning in and kissing Blaine again. “There. I was too surprised to kiss back the first time.”

“Still not the worst ki-”

“We agreed to never speak of that again!” Kurt interrupts, glaring at Blaine. “For even trying to mention it, you have to make dinner tonight.”

“It was already my turn to make dinner, babe,” Blaine teases, unfazed. “It’s almost done, go pour yourself something to drink and take a seat while I finish up.”

“You’re the best,” Kurt says, smiling. He loves that most days, one of them can always be home to start dinner while the other has class or work - it saves so much stress. As he walks toward the kitchen, he feels another brush at the top of his head. “Another one?”

“I told you, on sale,” Blaine says, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s cheek and sneaking around him to get to the kitchen-slash-dining room. “It’s festive!”

“It’s going to give me chapped lips,” Kurt replies, entering the kitchen to see more mistletoe over the sink, stove, and dining table. “Or was lip balm on sale too?”

“Check the medicine cabinet,” Blaine says with a wink and a pop of his hips.

“I really don’t know if you’re kidding,” Kurt says, heading for their bedroom. “I swear to God, if our bathroom is covered in - holy mother of Christ.”

“On-”

“ _There is no way this much mistletoe was on sale,_ ” Kurt hisses. He can hardly believe what he’s seeing: every inch of their headboard is covered in green clusters, as is the door to the room, the closet, and the en-suite. Kurt even thinks he can see another sprig on the showerhead through the partially open door to the bathroom. “Did you ask _why_ it was all on sale? If you’ve infested our house with _mistletoe lice_ or something-”

“They apparently ordered two _thousand_ bunches instead of two _hundred_ ,” Blaine says, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist from behind. “It’s got organic pesticide sprayed on it too, I asked. It really was astonishingly cheap.”

“But with all this mistletoe above our bed, how will we ever get to sleep on Christmas Eve?” Kurt asks, playfully innocent. Now that he’s over his shock, he’s onboard with Blaine’s over-the-top decorations. “We don’t want Santa to skip us!”

“I’ve got some ideas….”

(Sure enough, Kurt’s asleep by 9:45 on Christmas Eve, snuggled up underneath cozy blankets, Blaine’s arm, and some slowly wilting sprigs of mistletoe. The amount of lip balm he has on shines almost blindingly in the moonlight.)


	22. Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugary-sweet. ;)

Blaine nearly fell off the couch when the realization hit him.

“Oh no,” he said quietly, gazing up at the ceiling as he flashed through his memory. “Oh _crap_. Crap, crap, crap.”

He bolted into the kitchen, pulling ingredients and utensils haphazardly out of their cupboards and practically throwing them onto the tiny kitchen island.

“Flour...sugar...baking soda...chocolate chips...eggs in the fridge - perfect,” Blaine said, grabbing their big porcelain mixing bowl and getting to work. “I can still make this work.”

The work was familiar but still took some concentration - he didn’t want to mix up the salt and the sugar, after all. Once he was past the trickier steps, Blaine found himself belting 80s pop as he stirred in the final few ingredients and prepped the cookies for the baking sheet.

“ _Head over heels, where should I go? Can’t stop myself, out of control. Head over heels_ \- ahhh!”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do on the offbeat,” Kurt teased from the kitchen doorway, unwinding his scarf from his neck.

“You’re home!” Blaine said, hand pressed over his racing heart.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Kurt said, pouting playfully. Blaine could see a glint of true hurt in his eyes, though.

“No, never.” Blaine walked over to kiss Kurt’s cheek, nuzzling there for a second afterward. “I just - was hoping to have all this out of the way before you got back.”

“I’ll never be mad about coming home to cookies,” Kurt said. “But what’s the occasion?”

“I almost didn’t keep my promise,” Blaine said simply.

“What - wait, from high school?” Kurt asked, eyes going huge.

“I vowed to make you cookies twice a year,” Blaine said, shaping the dough and placing it gently on the cookie sheet. “I don’t ever want to break my promises to you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, voice thick.

“So sit tight, and in ten minutes we’ll have dessert settled,” Blaine continued, a little choked up. “My second batch of chocolate chip cookies this year.”

He focused harder on getting the dough formed, wanting to make sure they’d be perfect. He didn’t notice Kurt walking over until he felt hands pulling his face up and in for a kiss.

“I love you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel. With or without cookies.”

“I love you too, Kurt. So much - hey!” Blaine swatted at Kurt’s hand, which had dipped into the bowl to steal a chunk of cookie dough. “I see how it is.”

“Blaine, you are my first great love. But my _second_ great love is cookie dough batter.”

“Fair enough. Just leave some for me to actually bake!”

“I’ll do my best.” Kurt leaned in again, and Blaine easily accepted another kiss. He had to admit that cookie dough flavored kisses _were_ especially sweet, pun only somewhat intended.


	23. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

Kurt shivered as a cold gust of wind blew across them, lifting the corners of the blankets they had thrown over themselves once the sun had gone down. In response, Blaine shifted his arm just slightly, silently inviting Kurt to move closer.

“This was such a good idea,” Kurt said softly, not wanting to break the spell of the evening. He cuddled his head deeper into Blaine’s shoulder.

“I figured we should seize this moment,” Blaine said. “After all, when is it ever going to be in the fifties on Christmas Eve in New York ever again?”

“Well, if we keep doing nothing about climate change-”

“Shhh. You’re ruining it,” Blaine teased. “Let’s believe this is just a fluke.”

“Then yes, the weather will probably never allow us to do this again,” Kurt said, amused smile on his face.

“Granted, the light pollution makes it difficult to see many stars,” Blaine allowed. stroking over Kurt’s back. “But I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too,” Kurt said, leaning up for a kiss. “Besides, we’re on our way to being stars - we don’t need those flaming balls of gas.”

“Sexy,” Blaine said, snorting.

“Shut up, you know what I meant!” Kurt smacked Blaine in the chest. “Now who’s ruining the moment?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sor - hey, a shooting star!” Blaine said excitedly. “Make a wish!”

Kurt closed his eyes gamely and began sorting through ideas, but - _ugh._

“What’s with the scowl?” Blaine asked, soft and confused.

“I just - I couldn’t think of anything,” Kurt admitted. “Not to sound disgustingly cheesy, but right now, there’s nothing else I want.”

Kurt looked up to see that Blaine’s eyes had gone wide and misty.

“I mean, I’m spending Christmas Eve snuggled up with my husband on the roof of our New York City apartment. Tomorrow we get to spend time with all the people we love and have far too much delicious food and make even more good memories. What else do I need?” Kurt asked. “I mean, would I like it if my mother and Finn could be here? Of course, but wishing for them to come back won’t work. I’m not wasting my energy on it. I’m focusing on what I have.”

“You are the _best_ person I know,” Blaine said, voice thick. “And I couldn’t wish for anything either. I have everything I’ve ever wanted - what else could I possibly ask for?”

Kurt scooted up and kissed Blaine again, deeper and longer than before. When another gust of wind suddenly blew the blanket off their legs, though, he had to pull away with a frown.

“Could we maybe wish to go inside?” Kurt asked, curling his legs close to his body. “I think I’m about to lose a toe.”

“Oh, I’m so ready.”


	24. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve! Have some post-wedding fluff.

Blaine woke up and tried to roll over only to run into a warm lump on his other side. His first sleepy thought was _Dave_ , but when he threw an arm over the lump’s middle, it was much too slender to be his boyf-

_Wait. Ex-boyfriend. So this lump is-_

“Mmmm,” groaned Kurt, grabbing at Blaine so he could bury his face in his curls. “S’early.”

“It really happened,” Blaine said, overjoyed at the realization.

“ _Blaine._ Early! Wait,” Kurt said, pulling back and rubbing at his eyes. “Blaine.”

“Yes?”

“You’re here,” Kurt said dumbly. “So that means-”

“That we really did get married yesterday,” Blaine confirmed, holding up his left hand and wiggling it in front of Kurt’s face. “Surprised?”

“In the best possible way,” Kurt said, a bright, toothy smile stretching across his face. “God, I forgot how good it felt to wake up with you, even if….”

“If?” Blaine prompted, curious.

“I never got used to sleeping alone,” Kurt admitted, picking at a loose thread in their hotel room’s blanket. “I could usually fall asleep just fine, especially now that I’m so busy directing the glee club, but every morning I’d wake up and wonder why the bed was so cold.”

Blaine’s heart somehow cracked and swelled at the same time. He hated to hear that Kurt had been sad, naturally, but the fact that Kurt had actually _verbalized_ those emotions filled him with even more hope for their future.

“I love you,” was what he said out loud, pressing a sweet kiss to Kurt’s lips. “Did I keep you warm enough last night?”

“Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages,” Kurt said, burrowing closer to Blaine. “And I love you too, by the way.”

“Glad to hear it,” Blaine teased. “Seeing as we’re shackled for life now.”

“Is that what you call this?” Kurt asked, flashing his own ring. “Because I don’t see any chains from mine to yours.”

“Of course there’s a chain,” Blaine said. “It’s linked right to my heart.”

Kurt’s eyes welled up. “That is possibly the sappiest thing you’ve ever said to me, and yet I’m still moved by it. You are magic, Blaine Anderson.”

“Uh uh.”

“What?”

“Blaine Anderson- _Hummel,_ ” Blaine corrected, smug smile on his face.

“Blaine Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

“As much as the sound of Kurt Anderson-Hummel?”

“Music to my ears. Although you know what would also be music to my ears?”

“Do tell.”

“The sound of coffee being poured for us at that diner next door.”

“Husband, you love the best things.”

“I’m well aware,” Kurt said, humming into another kiss. “Come on. Let’s go enjoy our first breakfast as married men.”


End file.
